


Wolves Rising

by murphamytrash



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, the violence isn't that graphic but just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphamytrash/pseuds/murphamytrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the town of Beacon Hills, California, werewolves, especially Omegas, were no big deal. Or they at least seemed that way to Scott and his pack. For a ‘normal’ teenager, a pack of angry and resentful wolves would be worthy of a bed-wetting terror induced experience. For me, however, supernatural beings turning up like this have become my new ‘normal.’ It’s my comeuppance, I suppose, for having a werewolf for a best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolves Rising

**Author's Note:**

> this is in first person i am so so so sorry i hate first person but i wrote this for class last year and i really dont want to change everything so i'm sorry that it sucks and stuff

For the town of Beacon Hills, California, werewolves, especially Omegas, were no big deal. Or they at least seemed that way to Scott and his pack. For a ‘normal’ teenager, a pack of angry and resentful wolves would be worthy of a bed-wetting terror induced experience. For me, however, supernatural beings turning up like this have become my new ‘normal.’ It’s my comeuppance, I suppose, for having a werewolf for a best friend. Angry Omegas wanting to exact their revenge, though, was pushing my envelope of what I’d accept without panicking for my state of wellbeing, and the wellbeing of my friends. As Scott’s best friend, I felt the need, as one does, to panic on the behalf of the both of us, due to the fact that he doesn’t seem to be feeling any evident sense of impending doom. Me, on the other hand, I specialize in that. It also wasn’t helping that Derek Hale, our group’s resident loner with a particular fondness towards leather and lurking, was nowhere to be found. Scott, Isaac, and I hadn’t seen him since he disappeared in a huff last month.

It was normal for him to be out of the public eye, that was just how Derek operated. If he’s not at the ominous site of his house, burned to the ground seven years previous; his old headquarters at the abandoned train station, which was admittedly not too homey either; or his newer and only civilized place of residence, his loft, then he’s most likely not in town at all, maybe not even in the state. It’s also normal for him to disappear in a huff; this huff hadn’t seemed huffier than any other past huffs, but perhaps we had missed something. Derek’s face is basically a permanent scowl, but perhaps it was a bit deeper set. Last I talked to Scott, he, even with all his Alpha-Werewolf powers, couldn’t  recall what Derek was angry about. Albeit, he did lose his Alpha status, but he was still a Beta. It wasn’t as if he was a lowly Omega, or a human like me, god forbid.

Beacon Hills is usually a nice place, from the aesthetic standpoint. The small town, situated just northeast of Sacramento, California is a real-estate agent’s dream It has suburban neighborhoods, nice schools, big libraries, and a reliable police department, though that could be biased, seeing as my father is the Sheriff. We were in the deep woods of the Beacon Hills Preserve when we heard it. Scott and I were practicing lacrosse, in hopes of making first string next season. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd had come along too, saying they were there for “moral support,” but it was obvious they were there for some sort of pack-bonding that werewolves in a healthy pack apparently needed to function as a group. They were all there with me, but it was still terrifying. Especially when we saw who it was, or rather, what it was. Three wolves emerged out of a particularly dark and shaded section of trees and began advancing towards our group.

“Stiles, get back,” Scott hissed at me, as he stepped in front of the group. I had dropped my lacrosse stick in my state of shock, and I tripped over it in my haste to further the distance from me and the rabid looking Omega that had broken into a near sprint. When it was just shy of a dozen feet from me, where I lay sprawled on the forest floor, my traitor lacrosse stick laying just to my left, my now throbbing ankle tangled in the mesh of the net. The wolf took its time advancing now, as if it knew I was injured and unable to get away or even protect myself. What the hell is Scott doing, I thought to myself, my short life flashing before my eyes, isn’t his job, as my werewolf best friend, to protect me? I turned my head slowly, remembering something I had learned in some animal safety class my dad made me take as a kid in grade school. No sudden movements, don’t provoke the animal, but I needed to see what Scott was doing, did he abandon me and leave me for dead?

Scott was whispering to Isaac vehemently, his eyes never leaving the wolf; Boyd was staring intently as the rest of the Omegas, already in a partial shift as if daring them to come any closer. Boyd couldn’t do much more than a partial shift, just the same as Isaac and Erica, as they were all Beta werewolves. The fact that the Omegas were able to shift fully into wolves was curious, but there was always the possibility that they had once been Alphas, and the skill had stuck with them. I froze when I felt something warm drip onto my cheek, and a shadow cover the sun beating down on me. I slowly turned my head and saw the Omega mere inches away, teeth almost lazily bared. I started, jerking my head back, and hit my temple on a rock. I blinked back the dizzying feeling, but the impending headache was not to be deterred. I was sure it could smell my fear, and see it in my eyes, too. It was as if it were taunting me, and taunting Scott. The wolf seemed to want to get it over with, and, seeing as pain flared up my leg and through my body if I even attempted to move away, there was nothing I could do to prevent the wolf from doing so. I closed my eyes, and prayed that my dad would be okay without me there to nudge the bottle out of his hand when he’s had too much, or to be there for him to hold onto when he thinks of Mom for too long.

“Duck!” I was jarred out of my half-hearted prayers by a fully shifted Alpha with the voice of my best friend who had leapt towards me, and I ducked just before it careened into me. It shoved the Omega off of me, and they tumbled off to the side, scratching, clawing, and biting with one another. The Omega was putting up a fight, but Scott clearly had the upper hand. Without the cold, icy hand of fear gripping my heart, I finally found it in me and scooted away from the fight. Once in a relatively safe area, I surveyed what was happening around me. Boyd and Erica were fighting off the strongest Omega, they worked best when together; and Isaac was fighting the last one, who was a nearly perfect match. I’m not sure how the fights played out, the pain from my ankle was catching up with me after the adrenaline of yet another near death experience wore off, and I was drifting in and out. My head felt like it was full of cotton, and my leg full of lead, My vision slid in and out as my eyes weakly followed the carnage the wolves were causing to the forest. I lifted my hand to my head, and felt dried blood down the side of my head, and a sizeable gash on my temple. There was blackness swirling at the edges of my vision, and I nearly gave in to it.

My vision immediately snapped back in, however, when the Omegas were overpowered and shifted back to human. I recognized them. After the Hale house was burned down seven years ago, only three members of the vast Hale family survived. And they were all right here, lying, barely conscious on the forest floor of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Derek Hale, our former ally and friend. Peter Hale, Derek’s admittedly creepy uncle, who had seemed friendly at one point. Cora Hale, Derek’s sister, who we had considered a friend. They were all here. Derek had nearly killed me, and they had all attacked us. The rest of the pack seemed just as surprised as I must have looked. I would’ve even laughed at the look of shock of their faces, nearly comical, if it weren’t for the situation at hand. Scott seemed to shake himself out of his state of shock and jog over to me, the rest of the pack in tow. He assessed my injuries with a wince. I assessed his, along with Isaac’s, Erica’s, and Boyd’s, with the same expression. They looked worse for the wear, but they, unlike me, had werewolf healing. Their cuts were already closing, their bruises fading. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have that luxury and was forced to sit on the ground, grimacing in pain.

“What do we do?” Erica asked, “It’s Derek. We can’t hurt him.” Scott turned on her with a look of shock and what could only be considered something along the lines of disgust.

“‘We can’t hurt him’? He almost killed Stiles!” Isaac cried out, as he gestured to me, still on the ground, “Stiles is pack, you and I both know that, and Derek almost killed him.”

“He almost killed my best friend.” Scott said, his voice considerably quieter than I assumed he wanted it to be. He seemed on the verge of tears, and scrubbed at his face, embarrassed. They all turned to gaze at me. I’m not sure I was completely there, I was still in a state of shock from seeing who the Omegas were.

“I have to call my dad. I have to tell him..something. He can help, he has to,” I said, in a daze, my voice barely above a whisper.

I pulled out my phone, and they didn’t attempt to stop me. I tapped it a few times before I realized it was dead. At my look of hopelessness, Isaac handed me hi phone, his hand lingering on my shoulder, a feeble attempt at comforting me.  The phone rung, and I realized just how late it was. My dad was probably asleep. He wasn’t going to pick up and we were doomed. He didn’t have a shift at the station tonight, so of course he’s in bed. Thankfully, I heard the telltale click of the Sheriff picking up the other line just as it was about to go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Dad, it’s me, you’ve got to help,” I said, gaining energy and stamina with every word that escaped my mouth.

“Hello?” the Sheriff repeated, his voice crackling and breaking off through the phone. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it. There was next to no signal. Of course there wasn’t. Why would I think there was cell phone reception in the middle of the Beacon Hills Preserve?

“Dad?” I nearly shouted into the phone. There was no answer. I looked over just in time to see the exactly what I didn’t want to see. The Omegas were awake. We had only one option left, and that was to placate them long enough to talk some sense into them. Maybe we could find out why they turned on us. Or maybe we’d die. We didn’t have much of a choice at this point, and I knew that if anyone died out here tonight, it’d be me. The skinny, weak, defenseless human, surrounded by wolves.

Even so, I sat up as best I could and attempted in my softest and kindest voice, “Derek?”

He looked up at me, and snarled. I recoiled, afraid, and his eyes softened as he took in the state of my injuries. He stood and walked towards me.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Stiles,” he said, and for whatever reason, I believed him, “The wolf took over.” Scott wasn’t as easily convinced.

“Then why’d you do it?” he bared his teeth, fangs elongating. Derek’s eyes hardened, and he turned on Scott. I could see Peter and Cora getting up and walking towards us, just like Derek had, and I felt a sense of building unease.

“You cast me out, Scott. I was an Alpha, and then I just...wasn’t. I was Beta, and I needed a pack,” he was getting angrier as he spoke, spitting each word of accusation, “you know what happens to wolves with no pack. You know what happens to Betas on their own.” The realization dawned on Scott, and his face softened, shifted from anger to surprise.

“That’s right,” Derek continued. “We became Omegas, all because we weren’t good enough for your pack.”

“We would’ve done nothing but strengthen your pack,” Peter said as he sidled up beside Derek, and Cora did the same on Derek on his other side. Isaac helped me to my feet, and I bit back a groan of pain as I put weight on my injured ankle, feeling the wound on the side of my head reopen, and I felt the blood, wincing. Isaac and I flanked one side of Scott, with Erica on Boyd strengthening his other side.

With no more than a second of hesitation, Scott admitted, “Derek, I want you in my pack,” encouraged with a nudge in his side from Erica, he continued, “we want you in our pack.” Derek’s expression was gruff at first, but slowly cleared.

“Really,” asked Cora, looking at each of us individually.

“Of course,” Scott and Isaac said, nearly overlapping each other with their words. Cora, Derek, and Peter all looked at each other, Peter and Cora smiling, Derek’s eyes lightening.

“Okay,” I clapped my hands together, nearly falling. Isaac gripped my shoulder, the only thing  keeping me upright, “I hate to break this up, and Isaac, here, is doing a great job of keeping me standing, but I my ankle feels like it’s kind of on fire, and I can feel the blood on my face, which is not a pleasant feeling, so can we kind of hurry this up?” I said, my voice lilting with sarcasm.

“Oh, right, crap,” Scott said, and Isaac shifted me over to him as I glared at his ashamed face at having forgotten about me, “we should go. Probably to a hospital. Let’s get you to your car,” I slumped woozily against his side as we walked out of the Preserve, to my Jeep, where he opened the passenger door for me.

“You better not hurt my Jeep. You know she’s my baby,” I weakly chided him, to which he chuckled, and helped me into the passenger seat.

**Author's Note:**

> come find/bother/prompt me on tumblr at puppermurphy.tumblr.com (i don't know how to hyperlink on this website yet)


End file.
